Map Reading + Bouillabaise

 Mr Fascinata takes out the garbage in the apartment.

Have no fear, because last night I made a Flora-styled

Bouillabaisse.

Sans sea-urchins, though.

Here's how:

Braise fennel and onion until it dissolves.

Sieve.

Add roasted garlic, basil. tomato, saffron, a little cayenne pepper.

Touch of salt.

A skerrick of sugar.

Two or three cups of water.

Reduce, reduce and reduce.

 Non-oily fish.

White flesh.

 Scallops, moules and prawns go into the simmering stock.

 Add more basil, or parsley.

 Be very afraid because today, S and I are going out.

Unattended, with just a map.

And, yesterday we over-shot the street turn by about a

kilometre of extra walking.

After already walking five kilometres or so, laden down with the spoils of fashion's

Holy Grail.

We're exhausted today.

But, still pushing on.

 It's fine and mild here.

Here's our midday view.

 



Paris Apartment

 Sorry, this basket's blooms is not in Paris.

But, it could've been.

It's at Columbo Restaurant, just near the Rialto Bridge.

We were lured in by the roses and that big basket of Cep mushrooms, as below.

I'd be lying if I said I thought they weren't bread rolls.

We had six hours to kill before bumping out of Venice

on the night train to Paris.

So, what to do?

But find a shady courtyard.

And eat.

 There's no decent bocconcini in Australia.

There, I've said it.

Caprese salad like no-where-else-in-the-world.

And, I mean it.

Do you beg to differ?

 

 On the way to the train.

I still had time to buy two lacy masks.

I had tried to resist their charms for the stay.

Wearing Mr Fascinata's patience thin.

 I'm not trying to look like something out of the Crazy Horse cabaret here,

but trying to negotiate a small stainless steel ladder off my bunk-bed, while the

train's lurching to and fro.

Thirteen hours in coffin position;

in a deranged stupor, dreaming all sorts of surreal imagery,

triggered by sounds of grating metal and howling winds.

Here's the en-suite.

But, those sleepers are worth it.

 Finally, Hello, Paris!

The view as promised.

In the Marias district.

 This Fibonacci staircase is going to save me a few kilojoules.

Thank goodness for four flights in the rule of thirds.

 Because, of course, this is our ground floor tenant.

 I've arranged the bijoux.

As you do.

Didn't bother anywhere else.

 Stay lovely.

Tell me if you can get decent bocconcini.



Things Can Change in a Minute

I had a lovely weekend fashioning and finalising some Spring frippery.

Anticipating that today, even though I was on-leave, I would

pop into to the chalkface to finish an important deadline.

Then start packing for a Paris departure in three days' time.

I'd even had a chance to visit Galeries Layfette online and pick out a pair of

70 Euro shoes!

 

 

 Suddenly, I was rudely interrupted by Mr Fascinata while photographing frippery

my Passport had expired!

Good grief.

Looks like those spambots got it wrong, I am not the

most amazing and clever person in the world.

But, thank you, anyway.

 I had to hot-foot into the City to do the renewal.

Fraught with worry that I'd end up waiting hours for

an appointment.

When I'd left the chalkface's job 'til the eleventh hour.

 I had to recall the secrets of The Secret and use psychic will

to jettison myself to the top of the queue in the Post Office for

the new photographs.

 And the same at the Passport Office.

The Secret worked a treat and the emergency Passport is now waiting for collection.

And my request was done over the enquiries counter.

I am still amazed and very grateful.

Have you ever used The Secret and its frippery?

Cartier was friendly the other night.

They showcased the Nouvelle Vague jewellery range.

The range is based on the film movement. About rebellion and the like.

Hence the up-side-down Paris icons.

 Red, white and blue flag fleurs.

 The Surfers Paradise skyline.

 The event was 5 Star +, but frankly I was disappointed with the drinks arrangement.

The trolley looked pillaged from the outset.

 There's lots of packaging here, but don't panic, I didn't practise The

Secret on Mr Fascinata; that bag only contains a pair of sunglasses.

Very nice all the same.

 

What we spent on sunglasses, we saved on dinner, by buying the

last three pieces of ham and pineapple pizza in Surfers Paradise.

 

I might not see you until I am Paris.

So, stay happy and use The Secret.